The Deadly Series Boxed Set

by Jaycee Clark

  No, the Highland had always smelled like the outdoors to him. Somehow.

  “Here’s your rooms, Mr. Kinncaid. Though I still believe you’d much prefer the penthouse,” Thomas said, sliding over the plastic cards.

  “Thank you, Thomas, and one more thing. This is a quiet trip. I expect the same amount of discretion as any other guest.”

  The old man’s gray brows beetled on a frown. “But you’re not just any other guest, Mr. Kinncaid. You’re a . . . well. You’re a Kinncaid.”

  “Does the word ‘mistake’ float through that brain of yours now, boyo?” Rori asked to the side of him. He ignored her.

  A tug on his leg had him glancing down. Ryan Kinncaid stood there in khaki pants, navy pullover, with a tentative smile. “Hi, Mr. Roy.”

  Bloody hell.

  Mistake.

  Ian ignored Rori’s cough and mutter. He couldn’t help it—he grinned into the kid’s freckled face and summer blue eyes. “Hello, Ryan.”

  Ryan frowned. “I heard Mr. Thomas. You’re a Kinncaid. I thought you were Mr. Roy.”

  Wonderful, just bloody marvelous. He glanced over his shoulder and saw his brothers and damn it all . . . Jock. He took a deep breath. Those dark eyes more lined, the face more haggard than he remembered, but still hard and fierce.

  “I’m any number of things and people, kid.”

  Yes, this had been a mistake. But mistake or no, he could see they were all well and fine. He could let them know to be careful if nothing else. He glanced back at Ryan standing to his side. He hefted Darya up and turned, passing one of the keys to John and another to Rori.

  “You have a penthouse apartment here?” she said with a raise of brow. “Wonders never cease. Mr. Rich boy turned—”

  He merely held her stare, his own anger at the fact this was not going as planned—hell, the plan was shot out of the water—until she shook her head.

  Her eyes moved slowly from him to his side. “Hello. Ryan, isn’t it?” She looked back at him. “Looks as if your idea of just a few days and no contact isn’t going to hold.”

  He stared past her to the men standing by the palm plants. Aiden was grinning, Gavin was shaking his head, as was Brayden, and Quinlan was walking back toward the ballroom.

  Hell.

  Roth slapped him on his shoulder.

  Ian sighed, and said to John, “Johnno, check the security. I want to know every guard on duty, and a list of the employees.”

  John held up the keys. “We’re still going to need these?”

  Hell if he knew.

  Aiden shook his head again and started forward. Two feet away he grinned, then stepped forward and wrapped Ian and Darya in a hug.

  “’Bout time you came home, bro,” Aiden said.

  Ian felt Darya stiffen and burrow into him.

  “Lyubimaya, ne volnooysya.”

  She only shook her head. He would make it all right.

  Brayden was next to hug him and then Gavin. Jock stayed glued to the floor by the palm. No surprise there.

  Old resentment started to worm its way through him.

  Screw it. He had more important things to worry about. Jock Kinncaid was the most stubborn man Ian had ever met, and some things would simply never change.

  “Who’s this?” Aiden asked, looking at Rori and at Darya. Then his gaze landed on the other men.

  Ian sighed. “Could we do this elsewhere? This is rather . . . open.”

  His eyes scanned the crowd again, noting two men in suits stood near the elevators. His gaze shifted to the front door. Two more men stood there looking at him.

  Damn.

  “Two at the doors,” Rori said.

  Roth slid up to one side of him. John stepped up closer to their back. He felt Rori start to bend down. She’d strapped an ankle holster and her clutch piece on in the car. Thanks to Roth.

  “No,” he said, grabbing her hand.

  Without looking at Aiden he said, “We need a close secure location. Conference room still on the ground floor?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Johnno, call Pete.”

  They all stood there talking quietly, as if meeting up. Ryan and Tori were shoving back and forth, Gavin and Brayden watching them.

  Ian tightened his hold on Darya. He glanced at the hallway back toward the ballroom, where Quinlan had disappeared to. Idiot probably went for Mom. That was all he needed, another person to cover.

  John handed him the phone.

  Pete Jones answered as he always did with a simple, “What?”

  “What? Pete, tell me you put men on me.”

  A moment of silence passed before Pete’s voice, as solemn as the man himself, said, “That would depend on your location.”

  “I don’t care to give you that information.”

  Pete sighed. “We’re working on the damn leak and this phone is secure. Are you stateside yet?”

  “Affirmative.”

  The two near the front door shifted, one put his hand in his jacket.

  Ian heard the faint swish of Roth pulling his gun.

  “I’ve ordered men to watch the hotel, figuring you’d show up sooner or later.”

  Well, hell. “Have I gotten that predictable?”

  Pete snorted. “More a hopeful hunch.”

  “Descriptions, ranks and names.”

  “Don’t shoot them, for the love of God. You have any idea how hard it is to find half-ass decent agents these days?”

  “Pete.”

  “Four. Evans, five-eight, blond, blue.”

  Man number one by the elevator.

  “Becker, five-nine, brown, brown.”

  Elevator man number two.

  “Callum and Fisher. Both six even, Callum lanky, brown and hazel. Fisher, linebacker, bald.”

  Match. “Callum and Fisher by the door,” he said to Roth. “Check their IDs.” To John he said, “Becker and Evans at the elevators, Evans is the arctic one.”

  John relayed the message to Snake and Snake and Roth moved off toward their targets.

  “Let me know who and where or you might find a couple of agents with bullets in their brains.” He clicked the phone shut, knowing Pete would now know where to get in touch with him. Fine.

  The phone rang.

  “What?” Ian asked in tandem with Pete’s own verbosity.

  “You still need to learn some manners,” Pete’s nonfluctuating voice said.

  “I learned from you.” He watched Roth and Snake talking to the guys and checking their IDs.

  “True. How long you in town?”

  “Don’t know.” He scanned the crowd again and stepped forward, jerking his head to Aiden who raised his brows and walked back across the foyer into a door marked Private and down the hallway.

  “We need to meet.”

  Yes, they did.

  He turned and saw Rori was directly behind him. “I want a name, Pete.”

  “I know that. We’re working on it.”

  “Work harder.”

  With that he flicked the phone shut and handed it off to John as they walked down the hallway.

  The receptionist frowned at them as they all trouped in and Aiden said, “Sally, we’re ordering room service in the conference room. The ladies will be joining us shortly.”

  She nodded and picked up the phone. “Anything in particular?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t care. We’ll let you know in a minute.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The conference room had a faux fireplace in it, a long conference table that sat sixteen, a sitting area in front of the fireplace, and a built-in entertainment/conferencing area in one wall.

  The door clicked shut behind them.

  • • •

  She watched all the people around them. They’d ridden on another plane and then in the car to this big building.

  The man carried her like he always did, his voice gruff, reminding her of pebbles falling on stones.

  Where were they? Maybe he was taking her to
see Zoy?

  Before, in the area out front, he’d become tense, his shoulders and arms like bands of steel, his voice low and cold. It reminded her of the night he’d taken her from the monster’s den.

  Her tummy rumbled and he looked at her and grinned, those hard features softening. “Are you hungry, pumpkin?”

  She nodded and laid her head back on his shoulder. He smelled nice and funny. It was that stick he smoked. Aunt Sonya’s man had smoked those. She didn’t like them. Wrinkling her nose, she smelled the better scent on his lapel and his coat was soft against her face. Who were all these people?

  She knew and understood the lady was Rori, and there was the man John and Roth and Tanner and Snake. He didn’t look like a snake, but he had a snake on his bald head. She frowned. The last two were the last behind them, all walking down the hallway.

  There were other men. Five. No. One. Two. Three. Four. And a boy and another girl.

  She looked around as he turned with her in his arms, one of the other men saying something that made him grunt.

  She leaned back and watched.

  Ian said something in English to another dark-haired man. She looked from him to the man who held her. They both had dark hair, and the same blue eyes, the same eyebrows, but Ian had a streak through his eyebrow where no hair grew. She reached up and touched it. His gaze met hers and his eyes squinted at the edges when he smiled at her.

  She looked around.

  All the men. Her tummy tightened.

  Maybe, maybe he was taking her back to the lady.

  She stiffened.

  Please, please, don’t let the mean lady get her again.

  He studied her, frowning. “What’s wrong?” he asked her in Russian.

  She darted looks around, saw the old man scowling at her, and tucked her face into Ian’s neck.

  That man looked mad.

  Again, Ian pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

  She looked over her shoulder at the men behind them as the others started talking into those things in their hands. Voices coming from the strange boxes.

  But the new men—they were all big. Tall and serious. Though two looked alike. They were brothers, she realized. Brothers who looked alike.

  Like her and Zoy.

  Zoy—she tucked her head down again.

  “No one here will harm you,” he whispered to her. “You’re safe, Darya.” His big hand rubbed her back like he did when she woke up thinking the monsters were after her.

  He said she was safe, but what if there were monsters here?

  At least she had Ian, who was nice, and Rori, and Mr. Bear. Mr. Bear would keep her safe. She knew it.

  The big man with white and gray hair started talking, loud—he sounded like he was barking.

  She could understand some of what Rori, Ian, and John said. She understood some English. But this man was angry. She could hear it in his tone, even if she didn’t understand the words.

  Ian’s voice said something and the old man quieted.

  He set her on the couch, but she didn’t want to let him go. Her head hurt.

  “You’re safe here,” he repeated in English and Russian.

  She wanted to talk to him. To ask him where her sister was. But she wasn’t ready yet to talk. She had to be quiet, quiet or the monsters would get her.

  Rori watched as Ian tried to pull the small arms from his neck, but Darya was having none of that. He sat beside the little girl and Rori perched on the arm of the couch, running her hand along the cushions to rest it on his shoulder. Felt like a bleeding brick under her hand. She rubbed it, felt it stiffen even more, and watched as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

  For now, she’d play the wife bit.

  Ryan—cute freckled kid—hurried over and sat on Ian’s other side.

  No one spoke.

  Rori saw the old man’s gaze harden as he looked at his son. What the hell was the man’s problem?

  Tall, still well built, his hair was gray and white, his face a bit tan and ruddy all at once. He had the same hardened angles that Ian possessed. The same dark eyes. That same unforgiving look about him.

  Bet he was just jolly fun. And their scowls were identical she decided, looking from one to the other. Well, not identical. Ian was a frozen mask. No real anger behind it. One wouldn’t know what the hell he was about. Or planning.

  But the old man. Now, he simply looked angry.

  Mr. Aiden—she was certain it was Aiden—was still grinning, and the twins were quiet.

  The door opened and both Snake and Roth reached out to snatch it.

  The other one—the youngest, Quinlan—walked in, raising a brow at the two men beside the door as he gave them a once-over and said at the same time to the room at large, “Mom will be here in less than five minutes.” Quinlan unclipped his cell phone and punched a button. “The shower was over.”

  “Shower?” Ian asked.

  “You know, baby shower, gifts for the soon-to-be-parents,” one of the twins—Brayden?—said. Then he smiled, walked to the couch, leaned down and gave Ian a hug. “Thanks. I never got a chance to thank you before.”

  She watched Ian stand and slap his brother’s back. “Well, looks like Chris pulled through fine. Her family still doing well in New Orleans?”

  Brayden’s jaw worked a minute. “Yeah, they’re doing fine. Her brother was up last week, in fact. She wants to go down there for the holidays.”

  Ian nodded, then shifted his gaze to the other twin. “Guess Taylor’s about to pop. Would have figured you’d have started on the second one by now.”

  Gavin just shook his head and grinned.

  The little boy jerked on Ian’s sleeve again. “Mr. Roy—er . . . Mr. Kinncaid?”

  Ian squatted down and ruffled Ryan’s dark auburn hair. “Yes, Ryan?”

  “What do I call you?” the boy asked, frowning.

  Gavin, dressed in dark slacks and a pullover, placed his hands on his son’s shoulders and said, “Why not Uncle Ian.”

  The boy’s face split into a grin so wide his freckles looked like they’d leap off his face. “Cool. Uncle Ian.” Then the face sobered. Those summer eyes looked for a long silent moment at Ian. He leaned forward and whispered something in Ian’s ear, the gangly arms coming up around his uncle’s neck.

  This man and kids. He killed people as regularly as she did, yet the children flocked to him. But then she’d seen the fury he could unleash when a child was harmed. Maybe it was some instinct that they knew he’d keep them safe. Their own guardian angel.

  The little boy pulled back, still grinning, yet it didn’t reach his eyes. A muscle bunched in Ian’s jaw, up near his ear.

  “You’re safe and happy now.” Ian cleared his throat and looked up at his brother. “That’s all that matters.”

  The gaggle of female chatter and giggles floated through the door seconds before it was opened. Again the guards stiffened.

  Rori grinned. Yes, these women looked very dangerous. Then she looked closer and remembered what Ian had told her of them. These were no weak females. They fought when the need arose.

  What a strange and motley crew, she thought. The gruff old man. His smiling, dimpled wife walked through the door, took one look around the room, and stumbled to a halt.

  “Oh, my God!” she said, turning sheet-white.

  Roth caught her before she hit the floor.

  Chapter 14

  Ian was at Roth’s side before anyone moved. Jock, raking a hand through his white hair, said, “What? What the hell’s wrong with her?”

  They laid the woman, dressed in a copper-toned pantsuit, on the floor, her red hair curled and soft on the rug.

  The men stood over her. Ian, Jock, Snake, and Gavin.

  Gavin shoved Snake out of the way and said, “I’m a doctor.”

  Very calmly, Snake replied, “Medic.”

  “Really?” Gavin asked, taking his mother’s wrist as Snake opened her eyes and checked their dilation. “For some reason that occ
upation never crossed my mind.”

  Rori hid a grin. She couldn’t fault Gavin for his question to Snake, who looked liked a bouncer or gangbanger. Baldheaded and lanky, and a black and green snake slithered over the top of his head. Normally, he had the tattoo covered with a cap, hat, or do-rag. But not today.

  Today he looked like a kick-ass bodyguard.

  “Yeah, I get that a lot,” Snake said.

  “A trained medic?” Gavin asked, smiling.

  “By the best in the Commonwealth of Virginia.”

  “Who cares,” the big man boomed, all but looming over the prone woman. “Kaitie lass! Wake up, damn it. You’re scaring the boys.”

  Like he wasn’t just as worried.

  “She only fainted, Mr. Kinncaid,” Snake said. “We could put her on the couch.”

  “I’ll get her.” Ian moved in and easily scooped the woman up, as if she weighed nothing.

  Rori quickly moved and reached over, picking up Darya.

  When Ian laid her down, she saw his face pulled tight. First time home, his father doesn’t speak to him, and his mother fainted.

  She looked at John and raised a brow even as Gavin shouted for Mrs. Kinncaid to wake up.

  John shook his head, slapped Ian on the shoulder and said, “Well, at least your brothers are happy to see you. Not all a complete waste.”

  “I’m happy to see him,” Ryan said. “He saved Tori’s life and mine.”

  John’s lips twitched. “Right ya are, boyo.”

  Tori tilted her head and looked at John. “I remember you from Colorado. Aunt Jesslyn called you Mr. John Nolastname.”

  John bowed and offered his hands to the kids. “Glad someone is happy to see me, sweets. How about we wait over here out of the way.” Tori took his hand and he led them over to the head of the conference table. She watched. Mr. Kinncaid knelt on the floor by his wife. Each son seemed to be joined by his wife, with the exception of the doctor and his obviously pregnant wife, who leaned back against a wall rubbing her enormous stomach. She smiled, showing dimples, her red hair pulled into a braid. Her eyes met Rori’s. “Hi, I’m Taylor. Figured I’d be the one passing out. Woman’s been stuffing water down me all day. All week, truth be known.”